The Story Of '76
by HumbleVagabond
Summary: Sirius Black never had any trouble with girls, in fact their eyes eagerly followed him since he turned thirteen. As a result he has grown bored and disillusioned, until he notices the meek witch in the corner of the class who favors the library to loud parties. Following Sirius/Oc, with a healthy smattering of love, angst and magic. WARNING:Contains sex, drugs and rock n' roll.
1. Winter Whisper

**J.K. Rowling is fully accredited to the inspiration behind this. Although I cannot hope to match her prowess I can at least offer this as a humble gesture of appreciation for everything she has done.**

Hogwarts grounds 1976

The castle itself stood magnificent juxtaposed against the misty backdrop of the Scottish mountains. Even though it had been several centuries since its creation, its façade failed to reveal any sign of wear. As a result, the same fond images of Hogwarts flashed in the minds of past-pupils and current students alike. Every few months a distinct natural decoration settled on the grounds reflecting the season in question, at this moment the autumn sky had not yet succumbed to the threatening snow season but chilly Atlantic winds rustled the tree tops and the robes of the pupils. A slight nip in the air foreshadowed the icy winter to come; however this chill did not discourage the teenagers from their quidditch practices nor did it deter those who wished to spend a free period finding respite in the shadows of the castles vast planes. Unfortunately, the majority of students were too preoccupied to enjoy adolescent wanderings on the abundant planes, for many it was the painful year of O.W.L's or N.E.W.T's that encompassed tragically numerous hours of cramming and stress.

The brisk, shrill bell tolled and the halls were once again filled with a mass of grey, interrupted by the series of house colours, all heading to their respective classes. The din of loud voices and the clatter of students echoed out from classrooms to the corridors. It was easy to see the differences between the houses and years. Lost-looking first years stumbled in large congregations and looked on half-bemused, half-terrified at the towering sixth and seventh years. Gaggles of hysterical Hufflepuff third years penetrated the mass mixed with occasional couples holding hands in a public denotation of their unity. It was easy to distinguish the Slytherins, irrespective of age; they all wore the same trademark scowl and unpleasant leer.

Three lean, tall boys followed by a shorter plumper one trudged nonchalantly through the crowd, they stuck close together engaged in conversation. If one listened hard enough words like 'Snivellus' 'map' and 'Moony' could just about be distinguished within the drone of the movement. It was easy to tell this group was well established in the castle from their ease and familiarity of movement through the corridors. Unlike the rushed looking second years that bustled their way up and down the staircases, they were unconcerned about punctuality. The professors knew them well enough to deduce they would arrive when it suited them, no amount of detention could alter old habits. As students filtered into classrooms, the crowd waned and the group of boys were one of the few left making their way to the trapdoor that gave them access to the potions basement. The steam from the cauldrons would provide a welcome relief from the uninviting chilliness that their red and gold scarves failed to block out. Along with several other seventh years they began the descent to Professor Slughorn's classroom, there they would have ample time to discuss the plans for tonight. On passing, a few girls shot furtive looks laced with hope at the two tallest boys but to no avail.

They had made an agreement amongst themselves to make a particular effort not to skip classes this year and so reluctantly, yet with a sense of entitlement they flopped into their usual seats near the exit. This suited them for two reasons, they would be able to leave for their following free period hastily and take full benefit of a rare segment of freedom. The second reason was that the seats were adjacent to those of a group of chattering girls, one of which was Lily Evans which suited James just fine. From this angle, James Potter was able to catch her eye every so often and wink cheekily resulting in a blush almost as brilliant as her hair. She always looked away in apparent disgust, but both were aware that it was mock-annoyance at this stage. Neither had any conscious idea why they continued this pretence.

Being sandwiched between James Potter and Sirius Black gave Peter Pettigrew the advantage to copy their work and at least pass potions, something he was extremely grateful for as he had barely scraped an 'Exceeds Expectations' last year. Slightly jittery, Peter was an unlikely member in this coolest of groups- nevertheless he had formed a strong bond with the others over the past six years. He looked on in awe of the two taller boys as they received abundant admiration and always seemed to be at the core of some ingenious new prank. Fiddling with his gurdy roots, he looked on hopefully to see what the others were doing.

Sirius Black began the process easily, his exquisitely handsome features showed no signs of uncertainty as he tipped several ingredients lazily into the cauldron. Without so much as a glance at the method, he began. Gifted with a razor accurate mind, he saw no need to bother with the textbook; those sorts of things were obviously beneath him. He sat with definite impatience and blatant boredom as he waited for the contents to stew. He played with the slightly crumpled packet of cigarettes in his pocket, in an attempt to ease the tediousness. In his head he eagerly counted down the moments until he could have a much anticipated drag.

Remus Lupin was the only one who seemed to be truly concentrating on what they had been told to do, poring over the instructions; he read through them carefully before beginning, by which time, some of the other students had already begun to ransack the store cupboard to remedy their mistakes. Despite the presence of a badge that proudly denoted his prefect status, Lupin more often than not failed to exercise some control over his friends actions-especially when Severus Snape was concerned. Hid did however, have a habit for making them feel slightly guilty every so often with that trademark glare of disappointment he wore so well. Gathering a small pile of Bowmerulus tentacles, he tipped them carefully into the simmering cauldron turning the contents a vibrant green colour, just like the textbook had recommended. Genuinely pleased with his efforts he began to prepare for the next set of instructions.

In the depths of his supercilious boredom, Sirius had failed to notice the pallid, greasy haired youth engrossed in scribbling down something onto his book. Instantaneously, Sirius' boredom evaporated, replaced by a sense of excitement and possibility. He nudged James discreetly and nodded in the thin, dark-haired boy's direction. He sat on the room's outskirts by himself but his isolation didn't appear to perturb him. A broad grin of excitement that matched Sirius' settled on James' face, 'Snivellus' he murmured softly with apparent glee. The focus of their distraction did not go unnoticed by Peter who looked eagerly between Snape's oily form to his friends and back.

'I'm awfully bored' said Sirius pointedly.

James deliberated internally, the memory of Lily Evans very publicly denouncing him as a 'toe rag' still stung painfully in his mind. Their last year in school would be his last chance with her, who knew when they might see each other after graduation? On the train, he had spoken animatedly about the need to be mature and 'conscious of their behaviour' (Naturally Sirius had scoffed at this, a sentiment accompanied by his bark-like laugh) but with a distraction like Snape it was much harder to follow these resolutions up.

As if reading his best friends mind Sirius reassured him 'C'mon Prongs she won't have to find out about it, it'll be a bit of fun'

While he spoke James' hand flicked instinctively to mess up his hair which made Lupin smirk knowingly.

'We'll be done in five minutes, get a move on or we won't catch him mate' Sirius continued in his London drawl.

Professor Slughorn made a gesture to signify the time was up and students placed their finished products somewhat reluctantly on his desk to be graded. Slughorn eyed many of the offerings ruefully chiding the students with the occasional "Too many lacewings, when will you learn!", until Lily placed her perfected potion on the table. With a habitual wink for his favourite student, he announced proudly "That's my girl" resulting in Lily's flushed embarrassment.

Instead of being the first to leave, the Marauders uncharacteristically hung around, deliberately being tardy to keep an eye on Snape. Severus, now painfully aware of the groups focus on him, twitched nervously as he rushed frantically to remain amongst the other Slytherins trickling from the dungeon. The quantity of remaining students thinned with each second the school bell continued to elicit the high-pitched ringing. Severus left hastily, even abandoning much of his ingredients in a bid to flee. The group relentlessly followed him out the door; Sirius and James at the front with Peter excitedly close behind. After all, the chase was only the beginning of the fun. Lupin sighed as he reluctantly followed his friends, notably with much less enthusiasm.


	2. A Tale Of Two

The group threw themselves down in the confines provided by the shade of the large ash tree. Although slightly chilly, the light wind did not move the boys indoors, it gave a refreshing lilt to the air unlike that belonging to the stagnant castle.

Sirius flicked lazily through a worn copy of a muggle motorbike magazine which Remus had procured for him before stuffing it back in his bag. He blew some strands that swept eloquently across his startlingly grey eyes in a bid to emphasise his boredom. Lounging against the tree, he surveyed a few stragglers picking their way back toward the Great Hall for dinner. Sirius checked out a passing fourth year's breasts with vague interest before refocusing on the present conversation.

Peter was fretting out loud about yesterday's potions class; his product would have fallen well below standard, had it not been for James impatiently muttering instructions when Professor Slughorn stood at the far side of the classroom.

'Relax Wormtail' Remus had interjected soothingly, 'I'm sure if you copied off James you'll get an Outstanding'. In response, Peter gave an anxious but appreciative nod in Lupins direction and his round body seemed to relax a bit more.

James rumpled his thick black hair more so out of habit than anything else and he fiddled with a snitch in his pocket apparently lost in thought. Sirius did a quick sweep of the grounds to ascertain the absence of any teachers before lighting up a cigarette; he took a slow drag before passing it over to James who inhaled appreciatively. Lupin wrinkled his nose in distaste before adding "How many are you on a day now Prongs?". Sirius shrugged nonchalantly and Lupin went back to inspecting his books contents with interest. James stretched and stood up suddenly 'Oi, coming to dinner, I'm starving!' "Pretty boy?" James called expectantly, resulting in a weary but heated "shut up". Nevertheless Sirius got up to move, he hadn't realised how hungry he actually was until now.

* * *

The brightening effect of the greenhouse glass reflected dappled light onto its inhabitants**. **Flecks or green light bounced off the plants and gave a warm, homely glow to the building. Stacked high on each workspace were tall, spiny plants that brushed lightly off the ceiling. . The seventh years fell into their respective places and the usual classroom chatter began to die down as soon as Professor Chokely spoke. Issuing simple instructions and a page number to ascertain any further queries he set the class to work. Their goal was to obtain the watery fluid in the lamella of the leaves. This should have been easy if not for the plants enormous stature and tendency to issue a sharp smack with its spindly branches. It was not particularly dangerous work, neither was it mentally taxing, instead it was simply annoying. Naturally the boys held an advantage over the girls, their combined height allowed them to tackle the task with less of a struggle. Of course this meant that the girls would smile and flutter feathery lashes in a bid to gain the assistance of their comrades.

While several eager Ravenclaws had chivalrously abandoned their own Artopodra shrubs, the Marauders stayed where they were. They didn't come to girls, girls came to them. However if Lily had been there, James would have instantly made his way over with a sense of cool bravado to make her laugh and take full advantage of any moment in her presence. Unfortunately, Lily Evans never took Herbology after her O.W.L's; she was in fact determined to obtain a position in the department of muggle protection. (Also the reasoning behind James' unexpected choice of muggle studies). Thus James was resigned to barely heeding the goings on of the classroom. His imagination was thoroughly preoccupied with images of a certain red-haired Gryffindor.

Meanwhile Sirius scarcely noticed the eagerly on looking girls being too focused on the designated task. It wasn't that he was nervous in their presence (That sort of behaviour was strictly reserved for Remus and Peter); as a matter of fact Sirius had never had any difficulty with girls. Females had been so interested in him since he turned thirteen that they had lost their appeal. While their constant attention had been enjoyable at first, they had made Sirius become jaded and disenchanted with the lot of them. One could say he had developed an immunity to their charms, that's not to deny that he didn't indulge in trysts, quite the opposite as he wouldn't be Sirius Black otherwise. It's just that these occurrences never ventured into relationship zones, the girls had learnt the hard way to expect nothing more from him yet still came determinedly back. Besides, he had always found that girls were far more interesting until you got to know them and thereafter he was mostly disappointed and very often bored.

To the back corner of the greenhouse, a lone girl stood. Marissa appreciated the comfort and protectiveness that the corners concealment offered her. In an effort to ready herself for the task ahead she rummaged to remove the heavy Herbology book from her satchel and consult Professor Chokely's advice with the tome's contents. She pushed her jumpers sleeves past her elbows to reveal thin, delicate tapering forearms that caused the fabric to just fall back down into place again. She signed in exasperation and tried to focus on what she was reading in spite of the growing chatter and excited shrieks of the surrounding teenagers. She glanced around to compare her progress in relation to the others. Thankfully everyone else was still settling into stools and circling the stately plants with curiosity.

From her corner she could easily observe the events of the classroom unnoticed, not that she had much interest in those sorts of affairs. It was almost always the same dynamics reflected in a different setting in every classroom. You had the likes of the Heather Montgomery's and the Jack Sergeants' who seemed genetically engineered to obtain at least fifty points for their respective houses daily. Of course there were also the flocks of girls who giggled uncontrollably at the silliest of things and congregated at doors making it exceedingly difficult for others to get by. Alongside these, who could forget the one and only Marauders, the four boys who epitomised the height of Hogwarts cool, particularly Sirius Black and James Potter, best in school at everything they tried, and effortlessly popular with males and females alike but never out of detention. Finally there were the people like herself, the nameless ones who lived from day to day with little or no impact on the lives of those they observed on a daily basis. Marissa had come to accept this bizarre ranking scale as part of her identity; she did not expect anything else and always remained humbly in the shadows of her corners or behind her wave of dark tumbling hair.

The girl fiddled nervously with the plants pink leaves, unsure but admiring of its unusual texture. The only thing she could liken it to was the bouncy touch of a Hippogriff's feathery coat between her fingers. She raked her mind for any information to help her complete the task without having to ask a boy for help, surely the enormous hours she had passed in the library would reward her with some useful technique that would save her embarrassment? She slipped the gloves on and began petting the leaves gently. They curled upward and seemed to emit a low purring noise. Stretching themselves out further, their newly curved form offered her ample opportunity to make a quick incision, allowing a thin, clear liquid to drip out into her waiting basin. She marvelled at how such a spiny leaf held a remarkable amount of substance. Unfortunately now the first cut had been made, the plant was alert to her practices, and it began to whip out branch after branch, one lash narrowly avoiding her eye. Nevertheless she continued to gracefully dodge its outbursts and over the course of the next forty minutes she had garnered two large buckets of Artopodra juice.

Doing his usual rounds of the greenhouse, Professor Chokely circulated the students, keeping an eye on their progress. He bobbed from desk to desk, in his usual cheerful manner offering to hold the bucket or smacking the plant when it got a bit too violent. He knowingly swept past the table where the Marauders stood and carefully avoided the lashing Artopodra at the far side of the classroom, telling the Hufflepuff's jovially "Don't be shy in giving it a good old smack". He arrived at Marissa and her two full buckets with a clap, "Excellent, ten pints to Gryffindor Miss Gregory". Marissa hid unsurely behind her tawny sheet of hair, a barrier of sorts between her and the rest of the world. Deeply uncomfortable she shied away from the intrigued glances she was receiving from a few students. Tactful enough to be aware of her discomfort, Chokely redirected the class's attention to the front by commenting loudly on a struggling boy engulfed within the grasps of several thin braches. "As Mr Dean has so kindly demonstrated, this is exactly what happens when one fails to use adequate discipline with an Artopodra". With a smart tap to the plants stem, Chokely succeeded in calming the attacking plant.

"We'll be tackling Choking Puffs next week so don't forget those gloves" yelled the Professor over the bustle of the departing class.


	3. It's All In The Face

The wide orb that hung in the sky sent down beams of luminescent rays that lit the small room at the tower top, drawing attention to the lithe girl curled in a small cubby. It was secluded enough that chances of her being caught were slim but still allowed some light to drip onto her highlighting the words of the small book in her hands. The gentle snores of some of her roommates prevented her from becoming fully engrossed with the story she had begun yesterday. It detailed the adventures of a strange boy that had repulsed those around him and forced him into a life of seclusion. She could fully relate to his isolation and incongruity, hadn't her best friends been books for the past six years? That's not to say that the other girls were nasty, quite the opposite in fact, they had always been pleasant but she had struggled for as long as she could remember to remain interested by their fascination with platform shoes and tall, dark-haired boys.

She looked up from the worn, yellowed pages and glanced around her, she was deeply appreciative of this secluded spot. Up until a few days ago, she had always retreated to the second floor, where there was a small, remote, barely lit corridor until couples began frequenting there. It left her in the rather awkward position of trying to block out their sighs of pleasure or escaping with them most certainly seeing her. Either way it prevented her from doing what she had snuck out to do, and that was to read her book in complete and utter tranquillity. It must be understood that Marissa Gregory was not in the usual habit of late night wandering and rule breaking; in her mind those sorts of antics were strictly reserved for the Marauders.

It was at that specific moment a large shadow snuck towards where she sat, it was criminally quiet and showed no signs of being connected to a body. It leaned evermore forward until its source came into view. At this point Marissa's heart strained uncomfortably, pivoting rapidly against her thin ribs at the fear of repercussion. She retreated further into the shadowed cubby and ransacked her mind desperately for any viable excuses that would explain her presence in a lonely tower top at one fifteen in the morning. For once in her life she was appreciative of her thin frame and how it gave her the ease of making herself invisible. It was in the following split second that the shadows origin became visible. The face of ridiculously handsome Sirius Black trudged past where she hid and came to rest against the large window frame filled with a pane that presented pattern of sorts. She watched him slip one graceful hand within his pockets and withdraw a cigarette, oblivious to the wary breathless girl that watched him for any sign of recognition. She was deeply thankful for the concealment that the compact cubby offered her, what would Sirius Black conclude of her wound into a corner accompanied by a pink fluffy dressing gown and a withered book?

The tall figure that was Sirius Black gazed moodily out the slightly ajar glass pane. What would his dear old family say if they saw him now he thought sourly? The cool wall pressed against his skin, eliciting a shiver that flowed throughout him and the night breeze bounced calmly against his perfectly proportioned features.

Brooding, he reflected on the recent turn of events that had scattered his life before now. His home had never been a 'home' in the conventional sense; he had certainly been raised there and spent many a summer racing Regulus on their toy broomsticks in the garden. Although they had barely hovered two feet above the ground, Sirius remembered feeling absolutely invincible. It wasn't until that fateful day in first year when he had been selected as a Gryffindor rather than a Slytherin that things had tumbled at an alarming rate downward. He recalled the feeling of horror as he caught his brothers eye and slid meekly over to the table adorned with red and gold. Once Regulus had informed their parents (Sirius had been too terrified to relay the news home), they had written several ferocious letters to the headmaster demanding that he be resorted, it was too late and to their severe disappointment the magical bond of Gryffindor house had already settled. He had never imagined that something as simple as a house division would have resulted in his parents shattered glares and snide comments, even Regulus had distanced himself from the outcast of the Black household.

Each day he had become further disillusioned with everything he had believed in so clearly beforehand. The 'honour of the Blacks' and their need to uphold the 'values of nobility' now disgusted him and he had reached a stage where he was eager to participate in anything that would piss his parents off in the slightest. Some of his favourites included plastering his room with scantily dressed muggle girls and motorbikes alongside bringing home the prettiest muggle girls on Grimmauld Road. He had delighted in his mother's horrified expression as she viewed the "carnage" he had unleashed on the house (It had taken her a month and several very powerful Imminuedo charms to remove the graffiti proclaiming Gryffindor as the house of heroes in the halls two summers ago.) Naturally there was only so many of the shouting matches and attempted hexes one person could stand before internally combusting. He had hastily packed a bag and arrived at the house of a surprised but delighted James Potter two years ago. In the Potters house, nobody accused him of being "an abomination of their flesh" or looked at him like he had just urinated on their robes. Quite the opposite actually, James' parents were smiley and kind and welcomed him like a second son. Ultimately though, he had never let go of the Black family pride and bought his own place a few months ago. There he was free to smoke and drink as much firewhiskey as he pleased all while plastering the walls in posters of Ducati's and Harley Davidson's.

He liked the tower up here, it was silent and clean, unlike the Marauders own dormitory where clothes and books lay strewn across the ground and there was an endless stream of visiting friends. It gave him space to think and was always devoid of snogging couples. It was a hypocritical thought as he was very often one of them. Alarmingly soon he would have to abandon the safety of the castle's walls and face a war which he hadn't started. He looked down at the drop from the towers height to the miniscule ground below and pondered the consequences of the fall.

From where she was hidden, Marissa had watched the eloquent teenager smoke out the window with a troubled expression etched on his handsome face. In any other situation she would have enquired if the person was all right and listened quietly but earnestly to their response, however this was Sirius Black and in his presence her courage dissipated. As the smoke from his cigarette trailed ever closer unfurling towards her hiding place, she attempted to block up the passage to her lungs, with great difficulty. Her body screamed for air and reluctantly she opened her mouth to indulge. A puff of silvery white gushed into her mouth making her splutter and emit loud hiccupping coughs.

Sirius was quickly distracted by the sporadic noise emanating from the cubby hole he had failed to notice before now. Spinning around with his wand raised dangerously, he broke the silence with a series of smattered curses. A scrawny, fearful girl watched him apprehensively. He noticed her own wand lay stuffed in one comically fluffy pink pocket of her night gown. She was so slight compared to others Hogwarts girls he had been with; it was like she was still stuck in a lovely transient stage of child-like elegance. The first thing he noticed was the dream-like quality to her looks, she was more beautiful than any Veela Sirius had ever seen and true to his nature tepid lusty thoughts polluted his train of thought. He was fully aware of who she was-the frail witch who sat in the corner of most classes and frequented the library in place of attending parties in the common room.

At this, he recalled the memory of a discussion between James and himself a few months ago. They had been spread out on the pair of chesterfield couches that adorned Sirius' new flat and were enjoying the pleasant after effects of Firewhiskey. Moony was as per usual too sensible to have bothered with their antics and Wormtail was presumably hovered above the toilet getting sick.

"She could give Eva a run for her money" Sirius had noted drunkenly as their minds traced the delicate and balanced outline of Marissa Gardner's face.

"True" agreed James, he was in equal admiration of the mousy girls honey good looks.

"She wouldn't be as fun as Eva though" James quipped in his intoxicated stupor which resulted in the boys smirks morphing into satisfied laughter. Eva Thornwood had given both boys equal amounts of attention by night in the astronomy tower in the past.

He resumed his focus to the present and the crouched girl who's faced relayed an expression of deepest shock at being revealed. His eyes were drawn distractedly onto the slim outline of her narrow shoulders, skimmed with the falling material of her pink fluffy dressing gown.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he growled loudly dog-like.

Her bottom lip began to wobble and Sirius cursed his luck, he hated when birds overreacted and collapsed into a tearful stupor. To his surprise, instead of the emission of salty tears, she stammered profusely- "I didn't..I wasn't..I..I..".

He supposed he should have helped her up out of her cramped hiding position, which would have been the honourable thing to do, exactly the type of thing expected from a descendant of the Black household. 'Fuck that', he thought to himself, he had resolutely resolved to be rid of that house and all it's stupid, dark characteristics, so he remained fixed to the spot and resumed his cigarette. Marissa extracted herself from the cubby and glared at the devilishly handsome youth.

Too riveted in the moment by the recent turn of events, neither of the pair noticed the small grey tabby slink into their midst, by the time a pounding set of shuffling steps followed, it was regrettably late to make a hasty escape and laugh about it later.

'Students out of bed' grinned Argus Filch with malice at the unsuspecting pair.


	4. Convoluted Dreams

True to his word, Filch had informed their head of house and Mc Gonagall had promptly placed the two on the detention list with an annoyed flourish of her wand. She had merely brushed past Sirius but reserved the brunt of her anger and disappointment for Marissa. She hung her head ashamedly, answered meekly in response and failed to meet Sirius' apologetic gaze. On the solemn return to the common room, neither of them spoke, partly due to the presence of a flustered Filch who was delighted he finally served a purpose, but partly due to the sheer awkwardness of the situation they found themselves in. Quite simply their worlds did not mix, for why would they? Sirius had an array of ingenious ways to occupy his time, none of which included the library. She on the other hand, failed to live elsewhere; the library had always been a comfort to her. The only opportunity they would have to encounter each other would be during the brash, chaotic parties Gryffindor house was so famous for, not that she cared much for them anyway. There was always some silly feat involving spin the bottle and firewhiskey going on, that sort of thing never appealed to her in the slightest.

Argus Filch slammed the portrait door menacingly behind the pair. Marissa winced slightly at the rapturous echo of sound the impact made that flooded her bones. Without so much as another word to the witch he so vulgarly addressed earlier, he departed she stood there for a second longer before wordlessly re-embarking the stairs. It was only after she had pulled the cold but gentle sheets protectively around herself that she remembered she had left her book behind the curtain. On the other hand, Sirius lolled carefree back to bed, unfazed by the prospect of detention. What would be different about this one, waste a few hours and shine a few trophies. No big commotion- except this time there would be an exquisitely attractive witch to keep him company. Not that she would be the type to give him the 'company' he was used to. Marissa Gardner was the sort who wore her skirt regulation to the knee and spent more time fretting over the political correctness of her History of Magic essays than her hair. Obviously not his type then, unfortunately it didn't help that she had startling wide brown eyes and a smile that reflected everything right in the world. Lying in bed he willed himself to sleep, but it did not come as easily as he hoped.

* * *

After all their turbulent relationship with the rules of Hogwarts, it was no surprise that Sirius and James were familiar with the teachers who supervised detention and their respective practices of punishment. Thus Sirius recognised Professor Crawley of Muggle studies the minute he entered the room and rejoiced, aware he would be writing out lines tonight-the old-fashioned way. Professor Crawley also had a tendency to fall asleep in the empty classrooms, usually giving him and James an opportunity to engage in some enigmatic new hex to use on Snivellus later and resume their looks of angelic concentration by the time Crawley revived himself out of his sleep-fuelled trance. He strode in with an easy, graceful lope and relaxed into a seat near the window with a certain bravado. Uncaringly, He yawned widely and leaned back into the chair, stretching out. Instinctively he blocked the stares emanating from a stern but fuzzy looking middle-aged man, sat behind a withered desk.

Marissa had been there since exactly ten to ten. The watched patiently as the seconds jumped ever closer to the large golden number that read ten. She had waited, sitting expectantly with her quill panned out neatly before her, in an exact parallel line with the reams of crisp parchment waiting to be filled with her neat, careful script. Professor Crawley hadn't stumbled in until a quarter past, Sirius Black hadn't graced them with his presence until half ten, by which time loud, guzzling snores permeated the stillness of the classroom. If Marissa had taken a moment to disengage with her speedy, intent scribbling, she would have noticed how sweet the teacher looked, his head floating up and down with the rise and fall of his shallow breaths. She also would have noticed Sirius lounging in his chair, tilting it back on two legs. He hadn't bothered to write anything since he had sat down. Professor Crawley had fallen asleep so there was no need he thought thankfully and rested his arms behind his head with his eyes closed. Marissa was too focused on rewriting the lines again and again in neat parallel lines to notice how very, very handsome and peaceful he looked.

It was only when the strong smell of smoke hit her that she looked up to see him leaning casually against the wooden window frame, cigarette in mouth, looking out the open pane with mild interest at the night sky littered with glittering specks. This was the second time she had been caught out by the odour of nicotine. Unused to the pungent, slightly bitter aroma, she tried to control her breathing. Perhaps that way she could minimise the chance of spluttering and coughing wetly like the way some of the first years did when smoking behind the greenhouses. A weightless blast of cool air blew in, that mixed with the stuffy air of the classroom and ruffled his dark hair slightly. The smoke mingled with the fresh air, billowing gently. It was true that Sirius Black was very handsome; it was probably the first thing you noticed about him. Her vision was directed immediately to his lazy charcoal eyes which gazed unfocused out towards the world beyond the castle. There was usually a set of Marauder groupies in every year, dedicated to foolishly fawning over and following (Some would call it border-line stalking) the small gang of boys around. Marissa knew she was too sensible for that sort of thing, besides one was wasting effort and energy unless one was prepared to make the passage to your knickers accessible.

Sirius rejoiced in his head, he knew a lot about women, far beyond his years in fact. What made them tick, what made them blush, what made them curse him as the "Bloody Black bastard!". This was one of those occasions and he waited patiently for the reaction he knew would come.

"Ehm, maybe, ehm could you?" she began unsurely, but with an undertone of definite annoyance laced into the unfinished sentence. Just to have anyone look at her was a source of squelching discomfort to her.

"Bothering you?" Sirius suggested sarcastically with a quick nod to the cigarette held proudly in his right-hand. Still, he made no move to dispose of it. It was true that she was so beautiful that it was acceptable to wonder whether you had imagined her. Her flushed-heart shaped face reflected youth and radiance; she was simply exquisite and completely absorbed in writing out the lines again and again. There was something endearing about the way she sniffled every so often and shifted her weight continuously in the simple wooden chair. He made her deeply uncomfortable, that much was painfully tangible.

In response she looked pointedly at the dozing Professor then resumed her work. She wouldn't be the one in trouble again this time she thought smugly and refocused her efforts on the task set. Marissa's thoughts spun awkwardly, searching for a way to explain her late return to the dormitory. If Gemma Colrain, a kind but over-enthusiastic seventh year, ever discovered the interactions she had with Sirius, there would be a rapid succession of very personal, very direct questions involving the words 'gorgeous' 'shag' and 'lucky'. Marissa unknowingly belched at the very notion.

No time had passed before she glared up again at the stronger, fresher smell seeping from the newly-lit smoke and turned away in annoyance.

"Why do you..?" she trailed off immediately regretting that she had let sound pass her lips in the first place. The dusty rouging of her cream complexion proved testament to this. She struggled to fully dedicate herself to copying down the phrase repetitively.

_I must behave in school that includes after hours; the castle is not my social arena._

_I must behave in school that includes after hours; the castle is not my social arena._

"What the fuck is your problem?" he spat back lazily, making the girl cower pitifully into her writing-embossed parchment. He idly surveyed the tawny girl that he had distracted. The looseness of the uniform magnified her rakish from. He caught sight of two sparrow like legs that dangled awkwardly from the chair. She was tall, so much that she had to sit in an uncomfortable position that Sirius knew all too well, in order to fit her legs beneath the table. Watching her redden at his use of profanities and her obvious struggle to contain a bout of coughing with each new cigarette was moderately entertaining (If not a bit below the excitement levels he was accustomed to).

Quite suddenly, the clock hit the point where the two hands pointed towards the large golden twelve. She bundled her quill back into the small worn satchel and left leaving Sirius feeling a bit sheepish at his mannerisms, but not by much. He could hear the fading click-clack of her retreating steps as he stayed to finish is last cigarette.

There was something oddly empowering about not replying to Sirius Black, giving Marissa a rare flush of excitement that tickled the sides of her mouth into a smile. Usually she had viewed her inability to form a coherent sentence without feeling utterly senseless as some kind of curse. Growing up she had longed for the apparent ease at which others participated in social interactions that had never been gifted to her. It most certainly was the first time in her life that her non-compliance with words had served a purpose, other than making her invisible. That comforting thought stood emblazoned in her mind as she urged drowsiness to come, it took longer than she would have found convenient and until it arrived her thoughts bristled with hazy images of smoke infiltrated classrooms and boys who lacked mannerly speech.


	5. Exit Wounds

Professor Wimbles' pitchy magnified voice travelled through the Astronomy class, reaching into the furthest recesses of the room, including where the Marauders sat huddled in pairs at the back. This was a very well-chosen spot for discussions that could not reach the ever-listening ears of the Hogwarts populace, particularly those belonging to Severus Snape.

Sirius stared around at the other students, looking haughty and bored, yet very-handsomely so, while Peter fidgeted absentmindedly.

For many it was a relief that tonight's class was within the confines of the castles walls, sheltering them from the ravenous winds that currently raged beyond and hit ferociously at the windows, causing a mild rattling. The Marauders rejoiced in the freedom the outdoor classes provided, they would have been able to set up their scopes in a remote part of the ground and pass the next few hours lazily taking in the still atmosphere. Thus James emitted a groan of disappointment when the astrological maps were passed around. "This shit is boring" he muttered, "I wish it was a full moon" he added as a barely audible afterthought. A dark, troubled look flashed for a millisecond on Remus' thin face but this went unnoticed due to his head being buried in a large tome depicting the astrological movements of Jupiter's 800th star tonight. "We might be able to map Pluto's moon tonight!" Remus gushed contentedly. "Boring, we saw it last year" said Sirius, a corresponding look of magnificent boredom proclaiming itself on his god-like features. Remus shrugged, and pointed at a small etched diagram in the textbook, "Musrar" he added by way of explanation. James peered over his shoulder at the small sketch of the bright green planet, he was sure it was probably very interesting but was distracted by how accurately the green matched that of Lily's eyes.

The other students assembled into pairs to tackle the large, curled maps with travelling squiggly arrows and barely legible labels the hopped as the planets orbited the page, nonsense to those not learned in the teachings of astronomy. The maps were very old and thick so several worked out a method of one person holding the map stable while the other copied down copious amounts of co-ordinates and star labels.

Alone Marissa was growing frustrated with the map. She tapped it a few times with her wand, muttering incantations to keep it unfolded but should not have been surprised at her failure. An object of this magical power would obviously be immune to a school goers spells. The grey standard school dress emphasised her narrow hips and bow legs as it skirted around her pole-like form. She used her long, slender arms to unfurl the map out in front of her, it insisted on reforming back into its tightly wound form, she sighed with exasperation and patiently attempted to unfold it again. Professor Wimble saw her struggle and briskly instructed the nearest human to partner with her for the period. With an unfazed brush of her hand she whisked the obviously reluctant Sirius to where Marissa struggled.

Sirius held it down impatiently, wishing dearly to be back with his friends in the safety of the end desks. He made faces to the group he had been amongst mere moments earlier, who were now mimicking romantic serenades. It was indeed fortunate that Professor Wimble had turned his back to assist the Farren twins for Sirius Black formulated a rather rude hand gesture in response. As the minutes in the class furthered it seemed as though the pair of teenagers were trying to have as little contact as humanely possible with each other. Wordlessly the minutes slunk by and Sirius' arm was growing sorer with the strain of holding the heavy astrological map. They were both equally unwilling to broach the bulbous silence between them. Marissa furiously labelled and relabelled, scratching out planet names diligently.

She flung the parchment as fast as she could over to his side of the desk and he halted it from falling off the edge with a light 'thunk' of his palm. Entirely unfazed by her aggressive behaviour, Sirius regarded the work briefly before speaking in his easy London-spiked drawl. "I don't need to copy you, I know it already" he smiled. Then with as much nonchalance possible, he lazily pointed to several labels. "Wrong, wrong, wrong and wrong again Gardner". She indignantly noticed that in her haste, Sirius was correct; the majority of work was pointless. He surveyed her idly and lost interest redirecting his focus to Elena Farren's bum, Marissa struggled deeply for something to retort and true to her nature she said nothing at all. Sirius had always detested the way women got tetchy for the most miniscule reasons so he inwardly celebrated the fact Wimble had paired him with a mute

Finally after much deliberating in her mind she said exactly what she had always wanted to tell Sirius Black. This statement had been something Marissa had incessantly pondered She spoke words that made Sirius jar uneasily. "You don't have to pretend you don't care so much, it's okay to feel something". Marissa pronounced each syllable gently and delicately, as if she had been contemplating them for an exceedingly long period of time.

The steeliness in his eyes glinted with shock and one fist tightened around the packet of cigarettes in his pocket, crumpling the withered box further. For the most part, Sirius Black was most definitely proud and _he_ was the one who contributed to others discomfort. It hadn't always been this way but it was a type of defensive behaviour he had learned to survive in the Black household. His cool façade had been the block to his mother's ringing sentiments; "Scum" and "Disgrace to his heritage" had been among her favourites.

It wasn't that Marissa had expected him to burst into salty tears and divulge his inner most hopes and dreams to her, it's just that she hadn't expected the coldness in his voice when he spoke next. "You might want to fix that question, you still have seventeen wrong". He stared coolly ahead making no inclination that the conversation was to be considered further. Elena Farren looked well tonight.

Minutes drifted by without further interaction and very soon the hour was lending itself to the end of the lesson. Sirius unfurled himself with slight relief from the uncomfortable wooden chair, looking forward to re-joining the boys whose howls of laughter broke repeatedly from the back of the room. He moved to leave.

"Ehm.. Exc.. Excuse me, ..Sirius?" she timidly began, almost stopping herself halfway through but loudly enough to intercept his departure.

"Mhm?" came the uninterested response.

"Wh..I mean.. How did you get Murar as part seventeen?" She paused, there was a wobble to her tone that revealed her unease. "It's just I don't.., I mean I can't.."

"Easy, the 170 degree turn around star 10240 gives it the green glow"

She stared at the page, trying to make his answer fit with the reams of theory she had spent hours integrating into her mind. He leaned over and used his quill to identify the question. His heady smell enveloped Marissa and caught slightly in her throat. She looked jerkily up to his close hovering form, and she was suddenly aware to the very light stubble that covered his linear jaw. She also marvelled at the crystalline nature of his charcoal grey eyes, they were aligned to the page but from where she sat their glittering nature was fully visible. Involuntarily she passed a barely audible squeak. This near-silent noise diverted Sirius to her delicate visage.

Their lines of vision became entangled and it was then that Sirius noted their closeness. The proximity was so wonderfully minimal that her breath flitted lightly up towards him, catching his without much effort on her part.

Marissa's round brown eyes blinked widely at him from behind the confines of her thick, matted eyelashes. Bare inches from her lips, he glanced at their fullness and rosiness before redirecting his fascinated gaze back to those superbly exquisite eyes. She looked at him fearfully, completely wary of what might just happen. Oblivious to the buzz surrounding them they were in an odd stage of transience that included only each other. If it had been another girl, Sirius would have no qualms in pushing her against a desk and kissing her roughly. Sitting there she looked too fragile for this genre of behaviour and so he abstained from following what his instinct screamed at him to do.

'This wasn't what she wanted!' her conscience yelped incessantly. Hastily he mind whirred with the prospect of contact. His towering form created a shadow over her body that made her tense. Never before had a boy made her feel so small, in fact it was usually the reverse. The pair was so close, just the perfect distance for him to place his lips lightly against hers and draw in her close by tipping her face upwards. Marissa's breathing grew rapid and in what was only seconds but seemed like so much longer she yearned for the privilege of having him. In Marissa's world fantasy never aligned with reality. It was time to acknowledge that and she pushed the chair in as she left swiftly, clumsily knocking into a desk on exiting. The lithe figure faded into the castle's corridors.

The familiar tall body that was James Potter treaded towards the lone Sirius.

"Oi, what was that?" James enquired.

"What?" Sirius feigned surprise, as if he hadn't felt James' hazel eyes on his back for the entire duration of the class.

"Back there! That!", he nudged Sirius.

"Nothing!", Sirius replied gruffly slinging his bag over his shoulder with such ferocity he was sure there would be a tender bruise at the point of contact by tomorrow.

In a simpering, mock-concerned voice with a corresponding facial expression, James began "I'm so sorry Pads, I had no idea it was your time of month".

Sirius couldn't help up emit a bark-like laugh at his friend's childishness; it made so many things bearable.


	6. A Dysfunctional Magnetism

The crackling warmth of the Gryffindor common room fire provided the backdrop for many evenings spent revising there. Gemma, one of the girls in her dormitory provided an incessant flow of chatter, Marissa only had to supply the occasional 'Oh really!' or 'yeah'. Gemma stretched her arms out into a small arc and nestled back into the armchair. "Coming up to bed?" Gemma enquired. "Nah, I think I'll finish this, inclining her head towards the lengthy essay, "We have that mermaid identification test on Tuesday". "Bor-ing!" Gemma had retaliated and sighed exasperatedly, "You could actually have a life you know!" she joked "It's what people tend to do!". She smiled kindly and left, patting Marissa gently on the shoulder. "Promise me you'll be up soon though" and departed with a smile. She felt a flop as someone sat in Gemma's vacated chair. Marissa grabbed a tome, completely at random from the pile abandoned by Gemma on the table. She had hoped he would not notice her or at least if he did, pretend he hadn't. Unfortunately Marissa was not a person bestowed by good fortune and the universe did not seem particularly attuned to her desires. She had a very good idea of who that person may be, however she refrained from looking up, more so from instinctual silence than indignation.

Sirius loved to watch her struggle with the juxtaposition of comfortably saying nothing or hurling out insults and hexes. He could practically see her mind whirring as to what to do. He leaned back and enjoyed the show. She sat with a stillness that was almost supernatural, so beautiful her looks were almost inconceivable. She didn't fiddle vacantly with a strand of hair nor did she nibble absent minded on the tip of her quill creating slight dent marks, she was a very unorthodox teenager. He had to clarify what had been uneasily pushing his thoughts around at night. It was true that he had been one quick decision from kissing her last week, neither had broached the subject. He was unsure of proceeding and was quickly opening his mouth to interject when surprisingly he heard her rapid, low voice.

"Why are you here?" She spoke coldly and with a distance that matched his from their previous encounter in Astrology. "Am I not allowed to speak to my favourite Gryffindor?" Sirius enquired casually with heavy sarcasm. Although this was clearly meant as a throwaway statement to embarrass her, Marissa felt an anxious at the peak of delight born within her. Sirius Black had been so close to claiming her, yet she had not claimed him, why? Like a strange magnetism he had been pulled to the empty seat opposite her instead of joining his friends. This had garnered him several highly inquisitive glances, all of which he ignored with a shrug.

Sirius watched her holding a book directly in front of her face, except it was upside down. The result was quite comical. "I didn't know you were into that sort of stuff" Sirius quipped, glancing at the cover of 'Want The Wizard, Won't Waste Time?'. "What's wrong with?..oh.." and she dropped the book like it had burned her. Its absence revealed the full beauty of her face usually hidden behind a large amount of book-binding. She fumbled for the little tattered copy of Sylvia Plath's 'The Bell Jar', shifting several other books on a bid to locate it.

"Looking for this?" Sirius asked with pseudo-innocence and a quirked eyebrow. A small tattered paper back dangled from his hand.

"No" she said quickly and defiantly but it was painfully obvious from the desperation in her voice that it was a lie. She looked elsewhere avoiding eye contact; she was still horrendously uncomfortable with anyone looking at her.

He was enjoying himself far too much to comply. "Hmm" he flicked through it lazily.

"Give it back!", even she was surprised with the sternness in her vocals at this moment. "It's a muggle book" she added hurriedly, "You wouldn't like it," she spoke with a defensive taint to her voice, never once lifting her eyes from her work.

"How do you know what I would and would not like, Gardner?" the intensity of his gaze brought the familiar injection of colour into her cheeks. She resumed her inspection of the table with lowered eyes. 'Muggle book?' Sirius thought with dubiousness; however he was determined to rid himself of the traits that bound him to the line of Blacks, so he disregarded all preconceptions. He eyed the novel curiously. "The pictures don't even move!" he complained leafing through its contents with the appearance of a highly disappointed child. Marissa fought a very strenuous combat not to giggle, everything Sirius said had this effect on her, his words were always spiked with a dry witty humour.

With her expression in the most neutral zone she could fathom, Marissa replied. "That's because they're not supposed to, it wasn't made in magical ink". "Obviously" muttered Sirius sarcastically.

"Any good?" He enquired lightly as he tossed the pages. "Yes, it's wonderful! You should read it, if you wan-…" she gushed before becoming nervous with her outburst and trailing off hesitantly. That was one of the few times Sirius had seen her brown eyes come alive as she had looked up with excitement. "Don't mind if I do" he announced with a cheeky wink in her direction. With low expectations yet oddly driven by an urge to relate to Marissa he began,

_'It was a queer, sultry summer, the summer they electrocuted the Rosenbergs, and I didn't know what I was doing in New York. I'm stupid about executions. The idea of being electrocuted makes me sick'_

With each page he flicked, he was entwined deeper into "Esther's" life and by extension, Marissa's too. For a while, Marissa watched Sirius and the emotions that were projected onto his face. For a while, she found herself distracted by him for a bit too long so she chided herself and returned to writing. "Do you want to go for a walk?" Sirius had asked suddenly. His swagger and confident demeanour diminished acutely when she regarded him incredulously. "After hours again?", she continued looking puzzled, "no thank you", she concluded politely. Noticing how late it was she moved to gather the large pile of books. She carried the large stack of books back to her room until a London drawl called her to a halt. "You forgot this!" he held out the tattered copy of 'The Bell Jar'. "You read it, I don't need it at the moment" she smiled and embarked the stairs. It left Sirius standing at its steps feeling oddly elated.

* * *

The best thing about being Sirius Black was that girls came to him, when it suited him. He didn't have to comply with anyone annoying just for a lousy snog, that behaviour was strictly reserved for Peter. This aspect of his life gave him access to the Hogwarts favourites-Eva Thornwood, Camilla Ray-Hewitt or even Gryffindor's own Natalie De Burgh, all of whom he'd ticked at least twice on his mental 'to-do' list. Of course there were the usual pure-blood brats from families deemed eligible enough, that were eagerly pushed towards him, Sirius recoiled from these offers, not because the girls hadn't been attractive (In fact the Malfoy line had succeeded in creating some very pretty blondes) but because it would piss his parents off. That was the sole truth as he had explained it to James a few years ago.

Elena removed the goblin-silver locket Amos Diggory had given her and stowed it in her skirt pocket before arriving at the meeting point. She was under no preconceptions as to her purpose here, in fact it had been stringently obvious when Sirius had approached her unexpectedly after lunch last week. She had flirted shamelessly back and was more than delighted with the arrangement, it would be quick and loveless but at least she had claim over him briefly. Her friends had stiffened with barely contained jealousy, usually Sirius was discreet about these sort of arrangements.

Shifty and unaware, Sirius had played distractedly with the box of cigarettes buried deep in his pockets before removing one. The light of the sleeping castle bounced off his dark, handsome features. He looked sullen. Offering Elena one, he lit up inhaling deeply and allowing the soothing effect of nicotine to rush through him and settle his strained mind. The deserted corridor soon began to smell faintly of smoke. Elena Farren spun her arms around his neck and kissed him readily, with a determination to leave her mark. Elena's taste had become tainted by the smoke that suppressed her naturally delectable sweetness and she pulled him closer so that his chest brushed against the thin fabric of her school shirt. She pressed her lips to his neck. Skimming his hand against the slight curve of her waist, he cursed the fabric for separating them. That was easily rectified as she slid it upwards. He felt her warm arms pulling him closer and inviting him to become part of her world.

Rhythmically, her shirt buttons became unclasped one by one, leaving a myriad of gaping flesh revealed beneath. Expertly he toyed his hand along her outline and became lost in her vastness. Purring softly she had guided his hand to her bra clip that was opened effortlessly. For once, the Hogwarts skirt was useful-centuries of girls had cursed its frailty especially in windy weather. However this couple rejoiced at the ease of access it provided Sirius with it he could freely lilt his fingtertips along her thigh. Elena shivered with every brush.

The act was mechanical, like an action he had gotten to accustomed to he didn't even have to use his brain. He made the right noises, pushed her against the wall at the right moment and even found the will to trail butterfly kisses down her heaving neck. The ripples of her body instilled a flourish of excitement in him. Entirely preoccupied with Elena, Sirius couldn't fathom why at that moment an image of Marissa had popped up in his conscience, he remembered how her skinny frame barely upheld the dress hanging from her body. Her fresh scent replaced that of Marissa's honey perfume in his mind. It was intoxicatingly addictive as he recalled fondly.

He pulled away, satisfied but dimly so. Devoid of emotion he refastened his trousers and sauntered in the direction of the common room. He didn't look around as she pulled her skirt back up against the sudden coldness of the castle and yanked the jumper loosely over her bare torso. Hurriedly she gathered the other fallen items of clothing into a small bundle and retreated briskly back to Ravenclaw tower alone.

Peter's snores echoed loudly as he beat the pillow into submission. With every pound, the contents seemed to solidify rather than become light and airy. The pillow joined the two others tossed aside in a similar fashion somewhere on the carpeted floor. Legs first, he manoeuvred himself in a semi-sleep like state from the graceful pour poster bed. Fumbling for his wand on the side table allowed him to activate lumos incantation which in turn gave him access to the stairs down to the common room. He reached for the tattered copy of 'The Bell Jar' and with it in tow, descended the narrow stairway. Perhaps the soothing, rich fire could provide some solace for his over active mind. Sirius Black was pleased the room was void; he did not feel he could handle the pressure of maintain his bravado and sureness at this moment. He collapsed into the nearest chair and fought hard to concentrate on the neatly printed words. Her soft features corrupted his mind, and he battled relentlessly to immerse himself in the tale. Only when he was woken by the excited squeals of some first-years that found him did he realise he had fallen asleep there. Warily, he eyed the over-zealous youngsters who squawked around him, he extracted himself tenderly and withdrew to his bedroom, leaving behind their squeals of wonder.

The peppy form of Peter greeted him and he offered a quick "Hi" in response, what he really wanted to do was talk to James. However he was not in his usual sleepy huddle beneath his blankets. Remus hadn't seen him since last night.

**####Full credit is given to the wonderful Sylvia Plath and her novel, 'The bell jar', I really recommend you read it! I would love to hear what you think so be nice and drop a review! J #####**


	7. It's Not What I Need

James Potter had spent the majority of last night with Lily Evans, not in that way however, as per his usual disappointment it was strictly platonic. In fact, what had begun with a simple prefect patrol had spiralled into an epic display of civility between the pair. Too exhausted to wander back to Gryffindor tower, they had slept beneath Sir Cadogan. James was completely disbelieving of the fact she had not rejected his arm slinked around her shoulder. Nevertheless he had returned to his dormitory in the late morning with a delighted swagger. "Where were you?", he was greeted gruffly by the remaining marauders. "With Lily" James sighed contentedly. "Since when is her name Lily?, I didn't know she had a first name!" , joked Sirius. Remus looked up expectantly "You two didn't..?" he trailed off too dubious to proceed. "A gentleman never tells" said James with a sly wink. Unable to contain himself James gushed what he had been hiding, "We talked for at least three hours, and she didn't call me a prick!". "Not at all?" asked Peter incredulously. "Nope, not once!" James concluded proudly. "We had a kip near Sir what's-his-name!". Somehow it didn't seem right to burden the tangibly delirious James with his troubles so Sirius had smiled and joined in the banter, all be it with a disproportionately weighty feeling. He was uncomfortably conscious of this.

As if plunged into the world of Marissa he was astounded at how much everything around him resembled her or dredged up some faint memory of her. Even the benches in the Great Hall had some sort of distant connection to her-that being the day she had shuffled uncomfortably there directly from the sorting hat. Sirius was preoccupied with the fresh wave of dread at being sorted into Gryffindor; still, it hardly stopped him from admiring the then-unknown Marissa's lithe silhouette. He stabled moodily at a potato and pushed it back and forth. James spoke for the entire lunch about Lily's seemingly endless wondrous qualities-predominantly that of her nice legs.

Sirius was by now, aware of Marissa's reluctance to stray from the camouflage of shadows and safety of classroom corners. Of what little he knew about her, he yearned for the opportunity to know more. He detested the unfamiliar sensation of being unknowledgeable on such a topic that held profound interest for him. This was part of the reasoning behind following her to one of her lunchtime library sessions. James had regarded him with disbelief when he had responded to his question. "Oi Padfoot, where're you off to? You didn't even start your seconds!" "The library" Sirius had replied quickly "I have something important to do" he threw over his shoulder.

The library was a lot brighter than Sirius remembered; he actually hadn't been there since the introduction tour in back first year. Marissa sat at one of the empty oak tables in the cavernous halls of the library, with her curious quality of stillness and accompanied as always with a large amount of paperwork and tomes. Occasionally she dipped her quill in ink to scribble something or brushed her nose with the long feather. It was terribly ordinary, but not to Sirius. Marissa raised herself from the chair quietly, presumably to return the towering volume of books she held. Like a bird of prey, Sirius pursued, all the time concealed by the various imperial shelves, he merely wanted to look at her. She gracefully slipped each book back to its respective spot. Marissa turned and began to walk the length of a particularly empty row, the one where Sirius was hidden.

"Hi" he said suddenly but in a lowered tone, he didn't want the newly appointed librarian, 'Pince' or something, on his case yet. You never knew when she could be useful. She was so accustomed to her own company that she was unaware of how to react to a boy talking to her outside a classroom situation. This interaction was a source of enormous surprise to her; However Sirius Black's presence in a library came as a similar shock. It was suffice to say she was perplexed at this recent turn of events.

"The Bell Jar was great" he began conversationally.

"You liked it?"

"Yeah"

"Great"

"Yeah"

She looked for a way to fill the growing bulge of silence that had formed. She said the only thing she could think of, "And you didn't mind it was a muggle book?"

"Nope"

"And that the pictures don't move?"

"Nope"

"Well, I'm impressed!"

"You have nice taste in books", Sirius cringed at his inability to construct a more interesting sentence. However he was reluctant to use one of his lines that made females swoon and giggle at the audacity and sleaziness. It just didn't seem appropriate.

"Thank you"

An uncomfortable pause followed in which both simultaneously strained to think of something to bandage what was left of the dying conversation. Giving up on her search for a suitable revival, Marissa was the first to turn and continue on. Neither Marissa nor Sirius had anticipated his hand to cling to her arm loosely. She jolted at the unexpected shock of contact while he inwardly rejoiced at it. She gazed unshaking into his grey eyes that glistened with the promise of life. Unabashed and guided by some inner courage she was previously unaware of, she placed her thin hand on his shoulder, exactly like she had seen girls do in the movies. Excitement causing his heart to beat jauntily against his chest, he wrapped his arms around her waist. It was odd how insubstantial she felt in his grasp, unlike any girl he had held before. Sirius felt the grate of her protruding hipbone beneath her uniform. She was tantalisingly inches from him; it didn't take much to just reel her in that bit further. She nearly combusted internally. Her lips hovered over his and she had closed her eyes in avid anticipation. It felt extraordinarily natural as he began to slowly lower his face to hers.

_Click Click Click Click Click_

The clear repetitive sound of footsteps on the polished wood gave way to a particularly unwanted obstacle. Their arms retracted urgently from each other and the figures jumped apart at the arrival of a particularly pretty blonde. Elena Farren shimmied down the aisle and wound her way adjacent to Sirius. She did not acknowledge Marissa nor did she pay any regard to the intimate situation she had disrupted. Sirius opened his mouth to speak, intending to tell her to "Fuck off", he abstained not wanting Marissa to see him use these words again. Slowly and sensually, she raised herself closer to his lips, although never meeting them. She passionately trailed her arm along his waistband and let it rest on his hips. Sirius froze at this unanticipated arrival. Her familiar scent washed over him and he was incited with an urge to push Elena to the ground and run. Sirius was unusually still and unresponsive, Marissa was the last person he would want to see this encounter. The terrible tension that was ostensibly tangible shattered as Amos Diggory's muffled and impatient but hushed tones were audible from barely rows away calling his girlfriend. With a reproachful look in the voice's direction Elena brushed her fingertips regretfully along the length of his arm with a slow wink and reluctantly left as suddenly as she had arrived. The cloud of her strong perfume remained aloft in her aftermath. Marissa tore her eyes away embarrassed and ashamed, why had she permitted ridiculous fancies to engulf her?

"Marissa" he struggled for an explanation, but the only ones he could fathom were hopelessly feeble. The worst thing was Marissa pretended to be oblivious to him yet her brown eyes blazed with distrust and hurt. The lack of emotion said more than any amount of tears or fired accusations ever could. She simply walked. He maintained a quick pace beside her babbling a long-winded but earnest explanation. For a moment, before they were thwarted, they had been gloriously close and that was something he didn't want to erase. The visibly shaken girl dutifully packed her bag, impervious to his pleas to listen. Whirling around, he saw the full extent of her pain etched on her carefully constructed features. "I will never let you make me one of your sluts" she said venomously and wavered out of his proximity.

"What?" he yelped, the sting of her words sliced him harder than the pain of any crucio curse.

The noise they had generated had unfortunately alerted the librarian. Madame Pince bustled down the once quiet aisle with the intense look of a librarian with a purpose, her wand was brandished threateningly. It was too late for further attempted explanations as Marissa had hurriedly left, leaving a distracted Sirius to bear the full brunt of Madame Pince's rage.

**Any reviews/recommendations/feedback etc. would be greatly appreciated. I have a vast array of illustrations I drew a while ago to accompany this story. If anyone is interested in seeing them, just let me know and I'll happily oblige. I hope you enjoyed the story so far, I'm equally incredibly grateful for all your much-appreciated views. A special thanks to the two lovely users who favourited this story-You both know who you are! **


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